Losing Ground
by Amaya130
Summary: AU. In a world where Harry Potter is a Slytherin with a devious plan, and Gilderoy Lockhart has no idea what hit him. PWP, Slash, GL/HP, Chan, 12!Harry


Disclaimer: No owning besides the awesome couch.

**WARNINGS: **If you did not get the memo from the summary this contains: **CHAN, MANIPULATIVE!Harry, and PWP **but most importantly, and it bears some repeating** CHAAAAN! **If you don't know what chan means go look it up, then come back and decide whether or not to read. I take no responsibility for your disgust etc. You've been warned. Friendly flames only.

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"Professor?"

Gilderoy Lockhart started guilty from the crouched position he had been locked in for the last fifteen minutes as the Slytherin Quidditch team showered after a grueling practice. Particularly, the boy's locker room. Discretely rearranging the folds of his flamboyant sapphire blue robes to cover his… second wand, he gave the student an assessing once over.

Harry Potter, second year Slytherin, perfect skin, lush mouth, big eyes, thin, boyish, fuckable body. The glance lasted all of a half second and then he flashed his Witches Weekly Winning Smile at the boy who'd caught him in a rather compromising position.

"Ahh, Mr. Potter! Such a pleasant evening is it not?" He said jovially.

One of the Slytherin's eyebrows rose into his artfully tousled hair line barely covering the famous scar. It had caused quite the fuss when the boy'd shown up at Hogwarts in rags and starving without anything. Of course, there'd been a huge protest from the public and the muggles who'd been looking after him were locked up in Azkaban. It had been an even greater shock when their golden boy had been promptly sorted into Slytherin.

It didn't really matter to him but Lockhart wondered absently how much it would take to lure the famous child to his bed. The thought was put on hold sternly, that could be addressed when he managed to convince Potter that he wasn't in fact enjoying the youthful display of cock that was taking place one wall away. He forced is smile into a mischievous grin and leaned forward one hand in the folds of his robe to keep his not so small problem hidden.

"To tell the truth, I stopped by the showers for a quick wash. I was just leaving when the Quiddich team came in but," he gave a depreciating shrug, "I'm afraid I forgot something so I was going back to get it." The smile on his face tensed the longer Potter just stared at him. It disappeared completely when those pretty pink cupid bows pulled into a smirk.

"Oh, I'm sure, _Professor_." He took a step forward, and Lockhart took a step back until he realized he was backed into a corner with two empty corridors on either side. The scheming young (luscious) Slytherin stalked him. Determinedly, he rallied his strength and forced another smile onto his face.

"I'm glad. Now, if you'll excuse me, Mr. Potter. I'm afraid our wonderful chat will have to wait until later, I have class." He started to edge around the boy and kept a considerable distance between any part of the minx and his lower anatomy, which despite his precarious situation had not deflated.

"Now professor," the young boy blinked long lashes innocently up at him from where he had grabbed onto one of his draping sleeves, "you haven't retrieved what you lost in the locker room."

Lockhart cleared his throat nervously before he realized what he was doing. To cover up his sudden lack of poise in face of big, curious eyes, he tried to bluster his way through Potter's delicate frame. Hopefully, the boy would forget his questioning when he babbled on about dark creatures in dark corridors and that he really needed to get to class, and he could pick up his possessions at his next break. Harry was a generally non aggressive child, preferring to sit quietly through his classes.

Getting past the boy was easy; preventing him from following him was not. The boy trotted behind his sweeping strides and commented idly, "This isn't the way to your classrooms, didn't you say you had a class." Lockhart stiffened and walked faster. Potter may have been bewitchingly young with soft, dark skin and his childhood fat slowly giving way to smoother lines, and features not quite out of boyhood, but he was dangerous. The one vice he had promised himself he'd never let himself indulge indiscriminately. "Professor?"

Big, flashing eyes glared up at him from a good foot down, and it was like a bludger to the stomach. Crushed emeralds and the lightest hit of golden around the pupils, the perfect mix. Merlin, the boy was utterly delicious, cheeks flushed and breathing fast.

"Yes?" he answered hoarsely.

"You didn't answer me." Potter crossed his arms across his chest, lips pulled down in a pursed frown that outlined its cupid bow curve. Lockhart's mouth went dry as he stared at it. "Professor?" The voice sounded exasperated and with considerable mental strength, he pulled his wayward thoughts back and focused on the boy's voice, on his words.

"What did you ask again, Mr. Potter? Forgive me, I have quite a lot of things on my mind."

"Your classroom, sir. It's not in this direction."

"Classroom?" Lockhart repeated, genuinely confused.

"Yes," the entrancing mouth opened in a sigh, "isn't that where you said you were going? To class?"

"Oh, yes of course." Lockhart gave another uneasy smile. "I was just going to procure something I need from my quarters."

"Mmm… I see," the young boy murmured.

Lockhart reached his portrait, a dashing man that looked similar to himself, and opened his mouth to speak the password before realizing his student had followed him all the way to his quarters. "Mr. Potter," he began in his patented 'I'm wonderful listen to me' voice, "if you could excuse me? Questions about homework can be asked before or after your class, but I really need to hurry… really, really need to hurry." The flashy man added as his eyes found they couldn't resist tracing the creamy line of the boy's throat and jaw. At the rate he was going, his robes wouldn't survive the damping. It was amazing what… liquid did to silk.

"It's not about school, sir." The boy's voice dragged him from his stupor.

But even as Lockhart spoke, he was distracted by the idea of how silky and hot the boy's mouth would feel wrapped around his cock, eyes big and dazed, lips swollen vibrant red, cheeks like cherries and his throat vibrating with each choking breath he'd take around his professor's achingly hard prick. "What are you here for then?" he barely heard himself ask, still in a daze. Determinedly, he finally forced himself to stare at a point over the boy's shoulder to avoid the temptation of luminescent eyes and honey skin.

"You, professor."

Lockhart's will shattered like so many china glasses that as his eyes fixed on the Potter boy, he wasn't sure he would ever be able to tear his eyes away from him. "Wha-?" he gasped. All his flimsy composure was stripped away like so many spider webs at the other's softly spoken words.

The soft, cupid-bow mouth tugged into a shy, innocent grin that didn't match the cold calculation in the student's large eyes, but his professor didn't notice that, much to busy with trying not to gape or something of equal decorum like drooling. Potter quickly got tired with Lockhart's rather vacant expression and stood on his tip-toes to grab the lush fabric of the other's robes, pulling him down into a child's kiss, all lips and exquisitely soft pressure.

A groan boiled up from the depths of Lockhart's chest and vibrated through his lips. Careful to go slowly, he tipped his head to a more comfortable position and pressed their lips together firmly as his carefully manicured hands came to rest on the child's slim hips. The barest flicker of tongue brushed against Lockhart's lips, and his mouth opened to the boy's timid invasion without thought, letting the slick wet organ trace over his perfect teeth and flutter over his flaccid tongue. He allowed his student the exploration and the chance to pull away he wouldn't have in a moment when his professor's shock faded and the realization that he could have _this._ This burning flame quenched in the famous boy's willing body, young but truly willing.

_Delicious._

But the boy's search did not end. Instead, Lockhart pulled him tighter, molding the lush mouth around his own, encouraging him to trace the sloping ridges of his mouth's roof. All shyness seemed lost. The once hesitant pressure of Lockhart's hands on small hips tightened too an almost painful thing. Suddenly, Lockhart swept the boy off his feet and pressed him fully along the firm, graceful lines of Lockhart's body. The tongue that had lain mostly still in his own mouth was the only thing that curled gently around its partner and pushed it back to its own home.

Lockhart traced the small baby teeth still left and the ones of maturity, memorizing each then slipped into the welcoming heat and suction of the boy's mouth. A brush of tongue over the roof wrenched a heady gasp form his child's throat and made him turn from the kiss, panting to regain his breath. His cheeks were flushed a pleasing pale pink, his lips swollen from kisses and eyes half lidded in pleasure.

"Adonis," Lockhart whispered, eyes focused completely on the dark-haired boy in his arms. The man in the picture had been watching the scene with appreciative eyes opened and closed silently as Lockhart made his way into his rooms.

The boy clung to him fiercely, tilting his head to the side and allowing Lockhart's hot, open-mouthed kisses to work their way down his slim throat. The couch was large, fit to swallow anyone who sat down in a cocoon of soft leather. Lockhart angled for it, eager to free his hands and wander down the boy's thin frame to nestle against the delicate skin of slim thighs instead. His throat ached to taste the essence of that flesh.

"Mmmh, Lockhart!" Harry yelped as he tumbled unceremoniously onto the couch. Indignant verdant eyes glared up at him above passion flushed cheeks and bruised lips opened with scolding words at the tip of his tongue. Lockhart didn't give him room to complain, swooping down onto him to ravage that open mouth and slide slick palms under his robes to the clothe underneath, seeking young nipples through a layer of clothing.

"Professor," Lockhart whispered against the boy's lips, scattering kisses over every piece of creamy skin he could find.

"Ahh…" the boy gasped beneath him, arching into hands that were working their way up underneath his buttoned shirt, "Professor."

Gilderoy groaned, smoothing a hand over a peaked nipple and sucking hard, purpling marks into the skin of his shoulder. "Clothes off," he ordered hoarsely, sitting back on the plush carpet with his student spread wide on the couch. The robe was easily disposed off and the shirt was hastily ripped off when neither of them had the coordination necessary to release the little buttons. Gilderoy watched hazy eyed as Potter, _Harry_, his mind whispered, began to fumble with the clasp of his trousers. He had Harry Potter on his couch.

"Shoes," he heard the boy say as he wiggled the pants and boxers down as far as he could go with his professor between his thighs. But it was enough for his eager, pink prick to jump and settle deliciously against the adolescent tummy.

"Merlin," Gilderoy whispered, leaning over to flick his tongue over the mouthful. It was painful to tear himself away from the feeling, but he managed to wrench the trousers off the legs. With the last barrier dissolved, he buried his face against the velvet skin of the boy's thighs, teeth nipping and tongue soothing slowly over to the meeting of leg and thigh.

"Mmmmh… Professor, please—need to!" Harry whimpered, head thrashing behind him and pressing his face into the slickening leather couch.

"Patience," was mouthed against his sensitive stomach, and Harry gave an embarrassing high squeak of surprise when a slick tongue dipped into his navel.

"Gghhh… pro-f-fessor…" Thin fingers snaked their way into Lockhart's soft, golden curls, not pressing him but just tensing there. His left hand was flexing gently around the boy's right thigh while his other one reached up to tweak a nipple, rolling it between talented hands.

"You're perfect." The golden haired man said, "Absolutely perfect."

"Mmm… please." Harry pushed his hips up as much as he could in the other's firm grip, swollen cock trembling delicately against his stomach.

Gilderoy raked his eye over this delightful piece of flesh, slowly putting together the control he had lost in face of disbelief and lust. "Please what? Tell me what you need." He murmured huskily. It was easy to play this game. He'd had plenty of practice and this encounter would just add to the pile, though undoubtedly more memorable since the boy _was_ famous. This boy was truly a result of high level breeding and aristocracy seemed built into his very blood despite the half blood mother. It was hard to find this type alone in place where a bit of sexual coercion went unnoticed.

The line of Harry's throat bore too much temptation. Gilderoy let the tip of his tongue trace delicate images on skin already littered with his marks.

"Mmm…"

"You like that?" his voice vibrated against the boy's throat, which he tilted more to the side in encouragement.

"Yeah," the unbroken voice sighed, "really nice."

Gilderoy laughed pulling back from his task. "I must not be doing well enough if you can still speak. And you're probably incredibly easy to please."

Challenge sparked those beautiful emerald eyes and made light skin pinken deliciously. "Want to bet?" The boy huffed haughtily.

"Sure. What are the stakes?" Gilderoy agreed easily, wondering how this situation would look from the outside. This boy naked beneath him scowling and himself leaning over him, still completely clothed. Something he should probably take care of soon.

"I win, we do whatever I want, same for you."

With one eyebrow raised, he said, "Whatever I want. That's quite a bit of freedom." and a finger ran down the length of Harry's spine.

Potter smirked, "It would if you won, which you won't." Gilderoy's wandering hand seized one tight arse cheek and squeezed, as the other pinched a nipple in a sudden twist. Harry yelped, trying to push into both hands at the same time. "Ohhh-" he mewled, "Ah, g-good."

The older man gave his own satisfied smirk. "Really? I believe I'm already close." His fingers slipped into the valley of the boy's legs, long lotion smoothed digits rubbing over the sensitive hole and pressing firmly against his perineum.

"Ahh… Merlin, Merlin!" Tiny hands came up and wrapped around the back of his neck as a sweaty forehead pressed against his neck. A groan from deep in his chest rose to Gilderoy's throat as he kissed the head of dark, damp curls and his free hand stroked the dip of one hip bone.

"No, just me actually. I'm sure that Merlin is dead." Gilderoy got a mewling chuckle for his efforts that transformed into a half choked moan when Gilderoy slipped the very tip of his finger into the dry hole.

"B-bastard." The dark haired boy mouthed against his throat, Gilderoy gave a short chuckle and removed his hands from their respective positions to look down at his student. Muzzy eyes blinked up at him, attractively bruised lips slightly parted in abortive gasps.

"We need lube," he finally rasped, trying to push himself up only to discover a pair of slim legs locked around his waist.

"Magic." The minx growled kitten like.

Gilderoy grimaced back, "I can barely think, let alone do a lubricating charm."

"It's a spell, and I can."

"Without your wand? It'll be quicker to get the lube." That said, he pulled the legs from his waist and forced himself to walk normally into the bed room. He went back to the couch quickly, but not too quickly. It wasn't good to be too eager, gave the partner the upper hand especially this one. He found Harry stretched out on the white leather couch, and swallowed convulsively as the fire light cast flickering shadows dancing over kiss bruised skin. Sated, glowing eyes cracked open and peered up at him, a small smile tinting the edges of his mouth.

"Are you going to stare all day?"

It was a good question, one that bore repeating if this happened again. The tube of lube was set on a low table with lion clawed feet. The boy smiled up at him and opened his legs invitingly, arms stretched out behind him. Gilderoy settled into the v of his thighs, pants abandoned on the floor. He caressed one thigh and lifted it up to further expose the boy.

"You ready?" was barely breathed as Gilderoy's fingers blindly searched the table for the tube. He cursed, wondering whose numb skull idea it was to set it down anyways.

"Yes," came just as his fingers closed over the tube.

"Well then, no need to waste time," he murmured, trying not to slur. He squeezed out a liberal amount off the slimy, cool substance, coating his fingers with the stuff so it dripped onto the couches leather seats. Vaguely, Gilderoy wondered if green, the boy's eye color, would go with the rest of the décor when he replaced it. His left hand lifted the boy's legs up to hang over his shoulder, exposing the smooth bottom to his view. "Beautiful," he whispered into the curve of the other's knee, trailing one finger across the flat belly. Let it never be said he was an inconsiderate lover.

"Ahh," the boy moaned, throwing his head back against the couch's arm, both hands gripping it so tightly the knuckles were turning white. With no thought to the boy's erection, the fingers swirled down the length of a hairless thigh, the beginning of a flower curled around the knee before Harry growled, "Touch me!"

Gilderoy happily obliged, finally running the pads of his fingers into the curve of his arse, lingering on one firm cheek. "Keep your legs there," he muttered, distracted as his extra hand curved down the leg to cup a pert arse in his palm. Both ring finger and pinky were pressed against his vulnerable hole. Glop spread over the cheeks, and the tight circle of muscles, easing the slid of skin.

The hips eagerly thrust back into the touch, barely rocking against the gentle pressure. One finger rubbed at the pucker, making it open up to the gentle prodding as the muscles loosened and the hole softened invitingly. "Good, relax. That's right." He cooed, wiggling the finger deeper inside, sinking it into hot constricting depths.

Harry panted, once perfectly coiffed hair a tangle of black strands over the white couch and falling around his flushed face. His other hand made a slow line leading up to the swell of lips and the dip of the boy's waist. A thumb brushed over the line between hip and waist before moving up to grip his ribs. Another finger pressed in with little resistance and slowly twisted deeper inside him until the greedy hole was sucking at his knuckles with sloppy wet sounds.

"Mmmnhh…" Harry murmured, rolling his neck in lazy contentment.

Gilderoy's thumb pressed against the sensitive skin around the boy's nipples, leaving aching nubs for latter. The third finger slid in and settled for a few seconds before all three withdrew and pushed softly into him again. Harry writhed against the leather upholstery, firelight catching on the brilliant jade of his necklace which shimmered live living flames against his milky skin. The jewel brought out the brilliant in his eyes in a way that made the boy surreal and undeniably exquisite.

"Just- just do it!" the boy mewled, hips jerking spasmodically as the delicate thrusts brushed by his prostrate.

Gilderoy smirked and gently tugged his fingers from the constricting depths. Both his hands came up to press the knobby knees into a thin chest, a quivering hole exposed for him to see. Harry's own hands came up and gripped the back of his knees, shifting impatiently on the couch. With the rest of the lube on his hand, Gilderoy coated himself and pressed his purpling cock against the satin softness of his pucker, smearing pre cum into the crinkled skin. Taking a moment to compose himself, Gilderoy surged forward, popping through resisting muscles and lodging himself most of the way inside that petit body.

A choked off wail spilt form bruised lips before a pearly line of teeth bit down so hard it drew blood and tears to the boy's face. "Shhh, shhh. It's okay." Gilderoy whispered, running his palms over a thin sweat slickened chest to tweak at the rosy buds he found there.

Harry couldn't stop tiny whimpers from spilling over his lips as salty tears trailed down his face into the corners of his lips. Gilderoy murmured soothingly and traced his tongue over those tear marks, lapping at the boy's lips to taste the sweet salt of blood and tears. The tight channel that had been so tense it hurt his cock slowly loosened. The lips against his own opened to him, blood dribbling from them to smear over his chin and neck. Accepting the invitation, Gilderoy plunged his tongue into the coppery cavern and pulled his thick cock out of the warm, clenching hole.

"Nnnngh…" Harry choked on his own blood and spit, turning his head to the side and letting some spill from his mouth onto the pure white leather and the wooden flooring. Heavy pants issued from his bitten mouth as if he couldn't breathe and what little was left gushed out of him in a surprised squeal. "Sir-r! Ohh-h…"

Gilderoy groaned, biting down on the exposed collarbone speckled with blood as he aimed for Harry's sweet spot again. He hammered against it once, twice, three times then pushed the boy's knees to his chest and slammed his hips forward in an artful roll that made Harry's toes curl, his head fall back and his cock to pulse his adolescent, colorless orgasm over his chest.

As Harry's grasping, convulsing sheath quivered around his aching dick, Gilderoy thrust one more time before submitting. Trembling, he released himself into the tight, restricting channel. His hands gave out as he knelt over his student, making his forearms press flat onto the leather.

"Mmm… I won." Muttered Harry sleepily, stretching his legs out on either side of Gilderoy's body. A fine shudder racked through his frame as the tight arse tensed around his sensitive cock. He pulled the limp organ free and sat back on unsteady knees to watch the trickle of cum that he'd drug forth from the moist hole.

"I think it was a draw," Gilderoy replied, eyes glued to the sight.

Harry rolled his eyes and glared irritably down at the man between his legs. "I know, you can't get enough of me, but I'm tired and I will not sleep on the couch." Gilderoy grinned at him then slid off the couch. "What?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"I'm taking you to bed." He replied and picked the boy up into his arms to walk the few feet to the bedroom.

The boy squawked indignantly. "No, let go of me, hey!"

"No, sorry princess, but I don't think I'll ever let you go." Gilderoy smiled and shut the bedroom door behind them.

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HaHa! It is done! …this is an old one (1 year or so) but I finally decided to type it up and submit it. Originally it was a Lockhart/Blaise (yes Zabini) because I did something cool and picked names from a hat. But then I realized as I put up that rare pairing pole (go vote people, the other one too) that I had a Lockhart smut already written. So I just changed a few things, added some stuff and viola! One mini-Harry on a platter for the deceiving Defense teacher.

Review On!

~Amaya13


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